


It Doesn't Matter If I'm Not Enough

by Violette_Pleasures



Series: In A Good Mood Drabbles (tumblr prompt fills) [4]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Smut, Lana del Rey aesthetics, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Smut, Pining, Road Trips, Summer Love, Summer Romance, Summer Vacation, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 01:05:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11910006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violette_Pleasures/pseuds/Violette_Pleasures
Summary: Credence has been in a secret relationship with his AP English teacher Mr. Graves for a while now. When Mr. Graves invites him to spend a month with him at his cabin on the lake for a month during the summer, Credence is thrilled to go, but it brings up some long standing insecurities about their future.





	It Doesn't Matter If I'm Not Enough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [writingramblr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/gifts).



> yo \\(non) back at it again with that Gravebone/Gradence
> 
> This was inspired by the song Love by Lana del Rey. Its shorter than the last couple of drabbles, but as soon as I saw the prompt I knew exactly what I wanted to do with it (>w<) idk, I'm really proud of this one, so please be gentle TwT

> "It doesn't matter if I'm not enough for the future or the things to come, 'cuz I'm young and in love."
> 
> -Lana del Rey

 

“Its strange, really…” Graves smiled slightly, almost to himself.

“What?” Credence leaned forward and turned down his phone, Nancy Sinatra’s warbled ‘bang-bang’ falling into a whisper. His overgrown hair whipped around his face in the wind. Percival had insisted they take the ‘61 Bel Air, a luxurious, cherry red convertible that oozed sex appeal. 

“Hearing this song and there not being a record player anywhere in sight.” He huffed a laugh and gave Credence a quick glance, keeping both hands on the white, enamel wheel.  “My mother used to play this record  all the time when I was little. I remember drinking peach Ne-Hi on the porch while this played.”

“Mr. Graves, I think your age is showing.” Credence grinned, reaching over to give Graves’ ear a playful, teasing tug. The way he ground his teeth in response didn’t go unnoticed.

“You kids these days,” Graves grabbed Credence and pulled him across the bench seat up against his side, planting a kiss to the top of his head. “And your new fangled smart phones and contraptions!” 

Credence laughed and snuggled in closer.

The road wound on further and further out, curving and caressing the edge of a beautiful lake, small summer cabins studded the shoreline. Pine trees were a little yellowed in some spots, needles still clinging on even in the heat of the drought. Credence felt a little breathless as he took in the view. He’d been waiting for this all spring, that last quarter felt like a quarter of a century he was so full of anticipation. A whole month with just him and Percival.

_“You should spend the summer with me,” Graves had mused as he ran a fingertip over Credence’s left pinky, a secret touch should anyone be watching, as he looked over the book reports piled on his desk._

_Credence looked up at the dry erase board, looping his pinky over Graves’ errant finger. “Spend the whole summer?”_

_“I don’t think the whole summer, but I think I can arrange for a month at my cabin on the lake.” He looked up at Credence then, over the top of thick black frames, and he remembered instantly why he had fallen in love with this man. “Do you think you can do it?”_

_“Maybe…” Credence bit his lip, wishing they were at Percival’s flat so he could kiss him as much as he wants. “I’ll have to think of something to tell my mother.”_

_“Sometimes, its better to ask for forgiveness than ask for permission…” Graves smirked up at him.  
_

_“I thought you were supposed to be the responsible one here….” Credence smiled. He glanced around and quickly bent and kissed the older man’s cheek, right at the edge of the lips he wanted to devour._

The cabin was sat atop a gently curving hill covered in wild daisies and hidden in the shade of huge trees. Credence grabbed his suit case out of the backseat and walked up onto the porch while Percival unlocked the door. The suitcase fell from his grip when Mr. Graves scooped him up and carried him across the threshold of their summer safe haven, both of them laughing. He kissed the boy hard.

“Figure we should do this properly.” Graves smiled as he sat the boy down, giving one of his flushed cheeks a tender brush. 

Credence placed his hand over the other’s, leaning into the touch. He looked up expectantly at his teacher, can’t deny the need he knows is written plainly all over his face. “I suppose so.”

Percival bent and pressed his lips to Credence’s, a small greedy sound slipping out between them. Credence folded himself into the older man’s arms and chest, wanting, needing to be held, taking up the space that they both had decided was for him, just him and Graves held onto him. No other place felt like home quite the way this man’s arms did. 

“I have a few things to do,” Percival said as he straightened back up, putting distance between them.

“But you said no work.” Credence crossed his arms, putting on the ‘pouty face’, as Graves had named it; Credence called it his weakness.

“I know, sweetheart,” He was already rummaging through his brown, leather attache case, pulling out papers and pens. “But I was so distracted thinking about this, I let a lot of things fall to the wayside. It’ll just be an hour, promise. Think you can forgive me?” Graves sat at a small chestnut desk in front of the wide French doors, slipping his glasses on.

Credence shifted his weight to one hip, looking up like he was actually wondering if he could forgive such a grievous injustice. “Maybe I can forgive you this once…if you take me out for ice cream.” He smiled as he walked around behind him, draping his arms over his shoulders and across his chest. He nosed at Percival’s ear.

“Alright, princess. Deal.” Graves long fingers loosely circled one of his wrists, bringing a creamy palm up to this lips. 

He licked the side of Percival’s face as he stood up. “That’s for calling me princess.” Credence smiled as he walked over to his suitcase, pulling out some short shorts and an old white button up Percival had gifted him, or rather he stole, some months ago. “I guess I’ll go down to the lake.”

“Please do.” He grimaced as he wiped his cheek, giving Credence a look. He pulled off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, revealing the bottom of his tattoo; a small family crest on the upper inside of his forearm.  “And leave the doors open, will you?” 

The sun was high, pink heat on Credence’s face, glitter in the water. He laid a towel out, slathering on Hawaiian Tropic tanning oil, determined to get rid of his snow-fair skin. The heavy fruit scent of the oil, coconut and banana, smelled like instant summer in a brown plastic bottle. 

Laying on his stomach, Credence could see back into the house. He’d left the French doors open as Percival had asked letting the summer breeze in. The white linen curtains billowed, lifted and swirling like waves. He caught glimpses of his  teacher through the sheer fabric, hunched over the desk, scribbling notes down, cigarette half smoked and perched between his lips. He’d never looked more beautiful. He took a sip of his drink and pushed back his gelled hair, oblivious to the boy watching him, falling more in love with him with every errant lock that fell into his face.

Percival Graves was a thing of eternal summer, always warm to the touch, eyes a bright gold-brown, the few freckles he had across the bridge of his nose never seeming to fade. He even loved like the summer, hot and fiercely passionate. And Credence was his winter with snowdrop petal-skin and jet black hair. Percival once told him he had the cold beauty of an alabaster statue; at the time, Credence had been a little wounded at the comment. 

Credence wasn’t a statue though. He was living and breathing…and growing older with every passing day. He knew he was young and foolishly in love with his teacher. But what happened after? What happened when Mr. Graves wasn’t ‘Mr. Graves’ and he wasn’t ‘Mr. Barebone’ anymore? He wondered if Percival would grow disinterested once the thrill of sneaking around was no longer necessary, once they could date and hold hands while walking down Main. Would Percival still love him as he grew older and the beauty of his youth had faded?

After a while, Credence grew bored with his dwelling and stretched, heading back towards the cabin. He was pleasantly warm and in need of a cool drink. As he walked back up the hill, he noticed all the daisies swaying in he wind and stopped to pick a handful, tucking one behind his ear. 

Percival was still looking over his papers, cigarette long extinguished and another whiskey sour poured. He barely looked up when Credence sauntered in and perched himself on the edge of his desk. He popped the head off one of the daisies and stuck it in Percival’s hair, then another and another until his hair was full of little daisy blooms. 

“How does it look?” There’s a smile to Graves’ voice, he doesn’t need to look at him for Credence to know. 

“Beautiful.” Credence slipped a finger into his teacher’s drink, swirling it around, the clinking of ice catching his attention. He looked straight into his eyes as he sucked the drink off his finger. He reveled in the attention, swinging one oil glazed leg back and forth. “Are you done yet?”

“Just two more, think you can wait that long?” Graves’ attention was all on Credence as he said this, sliding a big hand up the plumpness of the boy’s thigh.

Credence leaned over, his lips brushing Percival’s ear. He keeps his voice soft and breathy, just the way that Mr. Graves likes, that makes him fall to his knees and worship every inch of Credence. “Do you think _you_ can?”

Graves stands so quickly, his chair topples backwards. He grabs Credence’s waist and pulls him to the middle of the desk, spreading his long legs wide. He steps in between them, manhandling his legs into wrapping around his hips and starts unbuttoning Credence’s shirt. It clings to the oil, creating a delicious sensation as the rough cotton is slowly peeled off of him. He runs large hands all over his slender chest, fingertips brushing over stiffened nipples, making Credence’s breath catch. The shorts are the next thing to go, ripped off him with such need that it makes him shiver. 

“Baby…” The groan Graves lets out when he sees that Credence isn’t wearing anything under those shorts is primal. He hovers over the other, kissing him hard, his daisy crown raining down on Credence and the desk. He slips a hand between he other’s thighs, stroking and teasing him to hardness.

“Percival!” Its a quiet whisper of desperation between kisses. He opened his mouth, begging him to fill him with his taste. Credence tugged at the other’s waistcoat pulling himself up into Percival as much as he’s pulling him down on top of him. The evidence of the older man’s desire trapped between and pressing into them was maddening. “I need…I want it, please.”

“I know you do, sweetheart,” Graves fumbled with the zipper of his tan trousers, want making the task that much harder. He manages to free himself and there’s the click, squish, snap of lube and he’s pushing in, hips flush in one smooth motion. “I need it too.” 

Credence arched into the thrust, crying out as he’s filled. He tangles fingers into Percival’s hair, mussing it beyond repair, as he looked up into his copper-flecked eyes. The way they looked at each other in these moments, completely open and unafraid, was what made their love making so intense for Credence; he had never let himself be this readable or vulnerable before. 

Graves begins pulling out, then slides back in, the ancient desk creaking beneath them. The urgent need pouring off of them was heady, manifesting in the harsh snap of Graves’ hips, the desperate roll of Credence’s. _I’m here, I’m here…we’re here together._

With a low rumble, Graves pressed his forehead to Credence’s chest, licking at the salt slick skin of his breastbone, so close to release. Credence curls in around him, cradling his head to his chest, catching a whiff teak-wood scented gel. Graves pulls up and grabs his hips, hard enough that Credence knows there will be bruises later, beautiful bruises, and yanks the boy down hard on his length, controlling and directing their thrusting, moving Credence exactly how he wanted, not giving him any choice but to surrender and be swept up in the undertow. 

Its perfect, that which is them is always perfect, its too much, it wonderful, its terrible, knowing this perfection’s end is imminent. Percival looks right at him as he groans out as orgasm hits him, continuing to manipulate Credence’s body through the aftershocks. He keeps one hand on Credence’s hip, still pressing into that delicious spot inside him, the other stroking the boy’s arousal until he came apart beneath him with a loud moan. 

Graves slips from him, helping Credence to sit upright on he edge of the desk, leaning limp and exhausted against his chest. He runs his hands all over Credence’s back, humming in his low timbre as he picks daisy petals off his shoulders. “I don’t think I’ll be able to hand these back.” There’s a tired, lazy chuckle in his voice.

Credence looks over his shoulder at the smashed daisies, green smeared and staining the front pages of a handful of essays. He plucks up the remains of a fresh picked daisy, twirling it between forefinger and thumb. He sets it in the pile Percival had already started and smiled sleepy up at him. The warmth of the older man’s soft smile had him pushing aside everything he had been so worried about earlier and wrapping tired arms around his strong middle. “…I don’t care…” Credence mumbled into the tweed of Percival’s waistcoat.

“What?” Graves tilted his chin up.

So what if he was young and dumb and in love? None of that mattered right now. Right now, Percival belonged to him and no one else and they had long summer days of luxuriating in each other stretching out ahead of them. 

“Nothing.” Credence smiled again.


End file.
